


Universal Donor

by Tashilover



Category: Endeavour
Genre: Alternate Universe: Vampires, Blood, Dub-con biting, Gore, Vampire!Thursday, Violence, non-con biting, vampire!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7773028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thursday has never seen Morse's vampire lord or his bite.</p><p> </p><p>Vampire!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: violence, gore, blood

The corpse before them barely looked human. It was burnt beyond recognition, and Thursday was sure if DeBryn placed enough pressure on the outstretched arm, the blankened limb would snap like dry wood. "Oh my," DeBryn said, slipping on his gloves. "I am not sure if I can be as much use to you fellows. Burnt victims as badly as this one usually destroys all evidence."

Off to the side Morse was the image of perfect self-control. Thursday knew it was a ruse; Morse's heartbeat always increased the moment he entered the morgue. _Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-_

DeBryn inspected the victim's teeth. They were the only part of the body left untouched by the flames. "Good teeth," he muttered. "Do we know who he is?"

"Garreth Davis," Morse said. His voice was a little thick. "His vampire lord has already identify him."

"Huh. Was this poor fellow murdered by another vampire?"

"That's what we're trying to assess, if he was murdered then set on fire to hide the real cause of death. Can you see any signs if this was caused by human or vampire?"

"Well, let me see..." DeBryn began looking over the victim's limbs. "When vampires bite humans that are not theirs, they usually go for the limbs. Alright... his right arm appears clean... the torso seems unaffected..."

As DeBryn pressed gently down on the skin, it _crunched_. Morse shivered every time there was an audible noise.

"His right appears clean- no, wait..."

DeBryn was checking on the inside of the victim's thigh. He tutted. "Found it. Visible bite marks. This man was fed on before he was killed."

Morse asked Thursday, "Do you want to identify the vampire or should I get Davis' lord?"

"I'll do it," Thursday grunted, stepping forward. DeBryn moved out of the way. "Smelling the venom might set her off, and I do NOT want an angry vampire in the morgue."

Thursday gently prodded Davis' leg, finding the bite mark. His lip curled in disgust, his own fangs revealing themselves.

"Don't you set yourself off now," DeBryn chastised lightly from the side.

"I won't." He bent down and gently sniffed.

Dozens of different smells was present, and Thursday had to filter through them all to single out the venom. There was Davis' own smell, still there despite the fire damage. There was the lingering smell of his cologne, his clothes, the burnt remains of his skin, his blood, singed hair, his-

There. Thursday sniffed again, getting a better scent of the venom. Yes. He got it. "I know who it is," he annouced, straightening back up. "It's Johnathan Pyke who runs the night club on seventh."

"That idiotic vampire," DeBryn muttered mournfully.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Morse, have you ever seen a slaughter?"

Thursday and Morse were in the Jaguar, parked close enough to witness the scene before them, but far away enough to avoid the gore. Four other vampire lords were present, including two local judges, Bright, and an Oxford professor. Standing in front of the night club was Davis' lord, a young-looking woman with fiery red hair.

"Once," Morse said. He raised a hand and touched his collar around his neck. Some people liked to advertise who their lords were, others preferred to keep it a secret. Thursday has never seen Morse's bite. "I was fifteen. One of the locals kept siring new vampires, but refused to help them."

"Bah, no wonder he was slaughtered. How many did he sire?"

"Ten within a week. Half of them didn't pass the transformation."

"Bastard. Then you know how horrid this is. I'll understand if you don't want to watch this."

"I'll watch it. I need to see this case to the end."

In front, two vampire officers dragged Johnathan Pyke out of his club and threw him down in front of the red haired lord. She took a threatening step forward, baring her teeth.

In a booming voice, Bright said, "Johnathan Pyke. You've been found guilty of the murder and unlawful feeding of Garreth Davis. Because of these crimes, his lord, Melissa Dorris, is within her rights to slaughter you until you are dead. Do you have any last words?"

"I'm sorry!" Pyke wailed uselessly on the ground. "I hadn't eaten in three days, and he was there at the wrong time. Please, don't-"

With a ferocious scream, Melissa Doris fell upon him like a wolf spider. Her hands were bent into claws and she slashed down over and over, taking chunks of flesh off with every swipe. Pyke was screaming in terror, desperately trying to fend her off as blood splattered all around him. In one horrific swipe Melissa Doris took off his entire hand. In the next, his arm.

"God!" Morse muttered, jerking his gaze away.

Melissa Doris kept at it, even long after Pyke stopped screaming, even after he stopped moving. She didn't stop until there was nothing more than a pile of red chunks in the street. By the time she stopped, she was soaked in blood. One of Pyke's intestines was hanging over her shoulder. When she stood up, it slid off and hit the ground with a splatter.

"It's done," Thursday said. He started up the Jaguar. "Let me take you home. You can do paperwork tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

The rules were simple but direct. There was no exception, no negotiation, no loopholes. These rules were created to protect both the human and their vampire, and while many were in disagreement with some of them, no alternative has come forward.

No one under the age of seventeen was allowed to be fed on. Drinking their blood before they finished their growth greatly changed their body dynamics and many of them could end up with physical disabilities. This law also applied to pregnant women, the sick, the injured, the disabled, and anyone over the age of fifty.

A vampire lord had to provide for every human he presided over. Their humans had to be sheltered, fed, and clothed. Obviously some humans were treated better than others, but every human at least had something to eat, a place to sleep and clothes to wear.

Every human had a vampire lord. Even those barred from feeding were under the protection of a local vampire. Humans could change lords if they wanted, but consent was needed from both lords.

Some humans held the right to declare themselves as 'free'. They were not allowed to be fed on, they did not need the premission of their vampire lord to move or change jobs. But this also meant they were not under any protection of vampire law. If they were found to unlawfully fed on, then it was the human's job to fight for justice, not the vampires.

Of course these laws were unjust. They favoured the vampires far too much, leaving humans with very little choice. Unfortunately too many low-level vampires roamed the streets, ready to pounce on those who had no lord to protect them. Some freedoms were not worth it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Morse's flat was a simple, one bedroom place. It was so unbelievably small, Thursday could stretch out his arms and touch the opposite walls with his fingertips. Morse's personal belongings barely fit within. "I'm fine, sir," Morse kept insisting as Thursday escorted him inside. "I'm alright."

"I know you are. There was no point in staying any longer. Bright is the one that has to oversee the cleanup and final pieces of paperwork. Might as well take advantage of the freetime."

"Hmmm..." Morse walked over to his sink and poured himself a glass of water. As he drank, he kept fiddling with his collar, adjusting it to fit more comfortably on his neck. Seeing this, Thursday took a breath.

"I have something to confess. I didn't just bring you home for your own wellbeing. I have a proposition for you."

Morse turned around, swallowing down the last of his water. His eyebrows raised.

Thursday respectfully took off his hat and stepped forward. "We work well together, Morse. You've a very smart and incredible young man. And now with Win about to turn fifty... I will need a new human subject."

He reached out and gently touched the exposed skin on Morse's neck. His fingers barely skimmed above the collar. "I wish to ask your vampire lord to transfer his ownership of you over to me."

Morse moved away from his touch. "Sir, I-"

"Having two bites is not ideal, I know," Thursday said. "But the benefits outweigh the bites. I can afford better housing for you. Better clothes, as well. I also heard the rumour your lord doesn't allow relationships? I don't mind if you take on a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend, which ever suits your needs. This however does mean you'll be fed on more often. After Win's birthday, you'll be switching out the months with Sergeant Jakes."

"That's very kind of you, sir," Morse said. Thursday already heard the 'but' in his sentence. "But I've been under my lord all my life. He looked after my mother during her last days. There's a loyalty I feel to him."

"I... understand. That's common with families who've been under their lords for generations."

"Sorry."

"Hmmm, nothing to apologize for. The offer is open if you change your mind. I'll see you tomorrow, Morse."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday knew, even before he asked, there was a chance Morse would say no. Even if He wanted to switch lords, he would never rid of his first bite. Every bite was as unique as a fingerprint, and anybody who'd look upon his neck would know who Morse's first lord was, and who was his second. Having a second bite also caused unecessary drama. People would wonder what happened to Morse's first lord, if they died or were slaughtered, or in some rare cases, was rejected. Wanting to avoid all of that was understandable.

Still, Thursday would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. He _liked_ Morse. Win liked him, so did the kids. It was natural to want somebody like that in their lives forever.

Thursday got home a few minutes later, thinking of his options. Tomorrow he might as well register in the town hall for a new subject. He wasn't really comfortable feeding on some kid who was as young as Joan, but he had no other alternative. He couldn't be feeding on Jakes every month.

Win met him at the door, happy to see him. "Did he say yes?" Was the first thing she asked.

Thursday's gaze dropped down to the two bites on Win's neck. Her first lord had used and abused his subjects, feeding on them too often and denying them basic necessities. After he was slaughtered, Win was transferred over to Thursday. He was delighted to find she was a lovely young woman, and married her a few years later. Joan and Sam were adopted soon after. Win never covered her bite, not even in public. She was too grateful towards him to feel self-conscious.

"He said no," Thursday said, coming inside. "He's too loyal to his lord."

"Oh Fred, that's... wait, did you witness a slaughter today?"

"What?"

"Your eyes are red," Win said, pointing at them. "You have bloodlust. Did you smell venom in the past hour?"

"I... yes, actually-"

Win smacked his arm. "Fred, you idiot! No damn wonder Morse said no. Did he witness the slaughter as well? Ugh, did you actually ask Morse to be your subject while you _towered over him_ with your bloodlust eyes, mere minutes after witnessing a vampire slaughter? That's like asking a woman out on a date after you flipped her skirt!"

Thursday pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't think he would have bloodlust today. He fed on Jakes earlier in the week, he thought he was fine. "You know... it did feel like he had a bigger reason for saying no, but didn't want to tell me."

"You brute," Win affectionally, shaking her head. She tugged at his arm. "C'mon, take a few sips from me to rid those eyes. Ask Morse again in a month. I'm sure he'll be more receptive then."


	3. Chapter 3

A month passed and Thursday didn't ask again. He didn't want Morse to feel like he was being pressured into choosing Thursday, to believe his job was in danger if he didn't do what was asked. Thursday has filed enough harrassment reports from humans who were stalked by entitled vampires.

Win's fiftieth birthday was in December, only giving Thursday a few months to either ask Morse again, or put in a request for a new subject. He was going have to decide soon. The past few years Thursday has been feeding on Win less and less. Jakes cannot take the full feeding by himself, leaving Thursday to ration his meals more often than he liked.

"Have you put in a request yet?"

"No, I haven't." Thursday reached up and undid the clasp on Jakes' collar. It was a lovely blue silk collar ordained with garnet stones. The collar was designed to allow the neck to breath, minimizing the irritation on the bite. It was one was one of the few luxuries Thursday indulged in, wanting to show his subjects were more than just his food source. Win had her two of her own collars, a golden silk with sapphires and pink satin, but she kept them untouched in her hope chest.

Thursday slipped off the collar, letting it caress Jakes' skin before stuffing it into his coat pocket.

"When are you going to?"

"Soon."

He pressed forward, kissing Jakes' neck gently. Thursday was a considerate vampire. He didn't shove his subjects against a wall and took what he wanted. There was a process. Jakes sighed and leaned back his head, giving Thursday better access.

He smelled like cigarettes, cologne and soap. Too much soap. Thursday made a mental note to tell Jakes he shouldn't bathe too much. He was going to dry out of his skin. Thursday mouthed the area around the bite, teasing it softly.

In this room it was only them. There was nothing here to distract them; no books, no windows, not even a radio. There was a sofa, a rather ugly red and brown thing, but it was perfect to lay on afterwards. The cushions were fat and soft and squishy. But if Jakes asked for a better sofa, Thursday would buy it for him.

Thursday tongued the bite, dipping it into the small grooves. Jakes cried out, arching into his embrace.

There. He was ready. With one last soft kiss, Thursday bared his fangs and sunk in.

Jakes jerked violently, shuddering in Thursday's arms. There was always a sudden flash of pain when the bite was reopened. It only lasted for a brief second, then the venom kicked in, dulling the pain and heightening the pleasure. Thursday took his first long gulp. Delicious, sweet blood filled his mouth and he buried his teeth in deeper, elciting a startled gasp from Jakes.

Feedings never took long. Once they were done, Thursday licked the wounds closed, and very gently, laid Jakes upon the sofa.

For many humans, feedings were treated the same way as one treated going to the dentist. It was an annoying but necessary aspect of life. They came in, were fed on, and then went home and made dinner. _So honey, how was your day? It was fine, did my hair, picked up groceries, was fed on, and I bought a new hat. That's lovely dear. Pass the potatoes, please_.

Others found feedings as intense as the very first they were bitten. Either way, Thursday always made sure he gave aftercare to his subjects. Full and feeling a little fat, Thursday sat down on the sofa as well, reached and started running his fingers through Jakes' hair.

"Do you need any water?"

"No," said Jakes. His eyes were closed, his voice sleepy. "I'd like to get something to eat afterwards."

"Of course. Are you in the mood for anything?"

"Mmmm... soup."

"...are you alright? You seem more lethargic than usual."

"This _is_ my second feeding this month. I didn't think I was going to be pulled again so soon."

Thursday sighed. So much for procrastinating in hopes Morse will change his mind. "I'm sorry. I've been dragging my heels on this and you're the one who has to suffer for it."

".. why did Morse reject you?"

In moments like these Jakes was more open, softner in his thoughts. Had he asked this question outside of this room, he would've said it with a sneer.

"I don't know," Thursday said. "I believe there's a bigger reason behind it, but I have no idea."

"Have you noticed... in the two years Morse has worked in the precinct, he's never been pulled?"

When a human was fed on, it was customary to take a week off to allow them to recover. "I... haven't noticed."

Thursday frowned. Now that it was pointed out, Jakes was right. Besides weekends and national holidays, he's never seen Morse take a week off to feed his lord. "His lord probably has many subjects. Favourites."

"Perhaps," said Jakes. "But I am not the only one who noticed. Garett noticed."

He was referring to Garett Johnson, a snivelling, brown-nosing sergeant. If he spent more time solving cases than he did kissing ass, he would be inspector by now. "Garett needs to mind his own damn business."

"He mentioned it to me this morning. It was the way he said it, too. It made me suspicious."

"What do you mean?"

Jakes sat up. His hair was dishevelled from Thursday's fingers. He frowned. "I think he's going to try something."


	4. Chapter 4

When Jakes said Garrett was going to try something, Thursday thought the outcome wouldn't come for another week. He walked into the office that morning in a dark mood, intending to seek Garrett out and corner him, demanding exactly what he planned to do and put an immediate stop to it. That didn't happen. He walked in, Morse in tow, and Bright was already there, waiting for them.

"Thursday, Morse, my office now."

"What's going on?" Morse asked.

"No clue."

Thursday thought all Garrett was going to do was pass around some piss-poor rumour. _"Oh, did you hear? Morse's own lord doesn't want to feed on him. His blood is probably disgusting, full of impurities and disease. Why else wouldn't he be pulled?"_ If this involved Bright, then this went beyond petty rumours.

"Close the door and sit down." Bright said as he took his place behind his desk.

At his very serious tone, Morse's heartbeat started to beat a little faster. He was keeping calm, but the unknown was clearly making him nervous.

Once they took their seats, Bright picked up a file and held it up for both of them to see. It was Morse's file. He slapped it down and said, "I was given an anonymous tip the other day. I didn't want to believe it, I passed it off as dull office rumours, but I am under obligation to check. Now, I am going to give you both a chance to come clean. I suggest you do it now, make it easier on both of you."

Thursday had no idea what the hell he was talking about. Morse did. His heart started to beat heavily. Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-

Bright heard it too. Still, he waited, staring steadily at Morse.

"Sir," Thursday said. "What is this about?"

Bright opened the file. He passed it over to Thursday while still staring at Morse. "The name of Morse's lord. Read it out loud."

"Lord Kanto," Thursday read. He still didn't understand. "So?"

"He's been dead for nearly fifteen years."

"I-"

Thursday turned to his young bagman. Surely this was a mistake, a wrongly written name on his forms. "Morse, was this a typo?"

-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-

"So you didn't know, Thursday?" Bright said. "Very well, I'm willing to give you two the benefit of the doubt. Morse, tell us the name of your current lord and we can correct this form."

He pulled out a fresh form from his desk drawer and slid it over towards Morse along with a pen.

Morse didn't take the form. He stared at it for a moment, sighed in resignation and said, "I don't have a lord."

"What?" Thursday said.

Bright held up a hand. "Then are you a free human?"

"...No."

Thursday stared at Morse's neck. The collar sat snugly in place, covering his bite.

"We don't allow free humans as police officers," Bright said. "There's too much risk."

"Lord Kanto was my vampire lord as a teenager. This doesn't have to change. I can still-"

"So you've been reaping the benefits of the office by lying."

"I have not! My flat, my food, my clothing was all bought and paid by _me_ , by the salary given to me as an officer, by the job I was _hired_ to do. I have not been given special privileges because of my lord or lack of one."

"Take off your collar."

This came from Thursday. Morse startled, staring at him.

Thursday didn't appreciate being lied to, especially by people he should trust. Had Morse told him earlier he had no lord, he would've been upset, perhaps a little hurt, but not offended. Now here Thursday sat, in front of his commanding officer, of his senior vampire, and was told that his bagman had been lying to his face for the past two years.

"Sir-" Morse started.

"Take it off or I will."

There was no room for argument. Morse's cheeks tightened, then he reached up to his throat. He unclasped his purple collar and slid it off.

For the first time in two years he showed his naked throat. His neck was clean, a little pale, but free of bites.

Thursday was livid. He bared his teeth and stood up so quickly, his chair clattered to the floor. "You-!"

He didn't need to see a mirror to know his eyes were red. If he didn't leave now, he was going to do something he regretted. With a snarl, Thursday kicked away his chair and stalked to the door. He had enough sense not to slam it behind him, but he still closed it without enough force to rattle the entire frame.

 

 

 

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Bright entered his office. "Calmed down, have you?"

 _Calm_ and _not angry_ were two different things. Thursday certainly quelled down his urge to break every piece of furniture in his office, but the red from his eyes has not faded. Unless he feeds, it was going to be hours till they went back to brown. "I'm fine," Thursday muttered.

Bright clucked his tongue. "Well, I'll have you know that Morse and I have come to an agreement."

"An agreement?"

"Don't bare your teeth at me Thursday, I will not have it."

Thursday didn't realize what he was doing. He sobered, cupping a hand over his mouth.

"You're upset with him for lying, that's understandable. Go talk to him, listen to his side of the story. You might as well take him home, he needs to recover."

"Wait, what?"

He stared up at Bright, certain he heard him wrong. His eyes immediately narrowed in on the three spots of blood on Bright's shirt collar.

"As I said," Bright repeated. "We came to a compromise."

For the second time that day Thursday burst out of an office like hell was on his heels, pushing past men, forcing them to get out of his way. The office door was slightly ajar and Thursday nearly punched it open.

In Bright's office, Morse was still sitting in the same chair Thursday left him in. He was hunched over, one hand cupping the left side of his neck. At the sound of Thursday bursting in, he jerked up, his hand falling away.

Morse looked like he hadn't slept in years. Dark bags were under his eyes, his hair and clothes were disheveled. His outer jacket was forced down by his elbows, hanging off of him awkwardly.

The fresh bite on his neck was an ugly thing. Blood was splattered everywhere like an Jackson Pollock painting.

Furious anger bubbled up in Thursday. He stepped further into the office, his lips pulling back, revealing his fangs. He growled. "Why would you..."

_You chose him over me? I would have given you anything, I would have been gentle and clean. Am I not good enough? Was I not rich enough for your taste? In the end that's all that mattered, wasn't it? Money. You waited till something better came your way._

Morse looked miserable. Sick. He looked up at Thursday, almost pleading.

"You..." And like that, Thursday''s anger deflated like a popped balloon. "He didn't ask you to be his subject, did he?"

Morse shook his head. "The moment you left, he..."

Free humans were not allowed to be fed on, but Morse wasn't free. He wasn't under a lord either, he was somewhere in between. Bright had every right to take this small, unprotected, clearly delusioned human as his subject.

There was nothing Thursday could've done. "C'mon, let me take you home."


	5. Chapter 5

The silence of the car was defeaning. Thursday has come to accept Morse was a quiet man, and never expected too much conversation out of him, but he had plenty of strong opinions and if he was in a welcoming environemnt, was not shy in voicing them. It wasn't right that he was so quiet.

It didn't help that Morse looked like a corpse. He was pale, sickly, his thick curly hair stuck up at a weird angle. His neck was still a mess. Blood was everywhere, creating a stark contrast against the whiteness of his skin.

Morse suddenly croaked, "Well, aren't you going to say it?"

"Say what?"

"You know. 'I told you so'? 'You should have chosen me'? 'Hope you're happy'?"

"I'm not going to ask any of those questions."

"Just get it over with."

"Let's get you back to your flat first, then we'll talk."

Morse sulked like a child for the rest of the drive. Thursday was pleased for this; Morse's anger put colour back on his cheeks, had him sitting up straighter. By the time Thursday pulled into Morse's housing lot, he no longer looked like he was about to fall over.

Unfortunately his anger refused to allow Thursday to wipe the blood off of him. Once Morse was inside his flat, he went straight to the kitchen, grabbed a random dish towel, soaked it, and started rubbing it harshly against his neck.

Thursday hissed. "You're going to hurt yourself like that. The bite is still sensitive and will-"

"You don't need to be here. You're not my lord, you have no obligation being here."

"Your _lord_ isn't here. I am. So quit your stubbornness and let me help-"

"Fucking vampires."

He didn't say it quietly. Thursday stopped and pulled back. "What?"

With one last harsh wipe, Morse threw down the pink-stained clothe back into the sink. He did a poor job cleaning the bite. Flakes of blood was still glued to his neck, and his bite was an irritable red. It probably itched and stung horrifically. "Tell it to me honestly, _sir_. Would you even be here if you didn't want to bite me? If I wasn't something you desired?"

"What are you building up to, Morse? You're one of my men, regardless if you're Bright's subject or another's. Your welfare and safety is of my concern."

"You didn't answer my question. Do you still want to bite me?"

"... Yes."

Suddenly Morse pushed back from the sink and was crowding up against Thursday. Morse leaned up, and cocked his head to offer the untouched side of his neck. "C'mon, then."

Oh god.

A rush of arousal and hunger swept through Thursday, whiting out his thoughts. He bared his teeth, the urge to feed so strong he nearly lost all control. He wanted to sink his fangs down into that soft, yielding flesh, spilling fresh blood, drinking greedily. Morse would be delicious. Cigarettes and drugs tend to ruin the taste of the blood, but Thursday never told Jakes to stop his smoking habits. He never wanted Jakes to feel like his body wasn't his own. But Morse didn't smoke, he didn't take drugs, which meant his blood was pure.

Bright didn't know what he had. He rushed in, grabbed Morse and bit him, causing unecessary pain and panick. Thursday wouldn't be like that. The new bite would be painful, yes, but Thursday was patient. He could wait till the pain turned into pleasure. Morse would squirm in his arms, confused but aroused, pushing his erection against Thursday's hip. Thursday would obliged him, opening his trousers, taking his cock in hand.

What would Morse enjoy? Did he like to be teased or would he rather have it rough? Thursday would take his time to find out. Morse seemed to be the type of person who enjoyed a little pain, wouldn't mind if Thursday bit him as he was stroked.

But.

Thursday calmed himself. Reluctantly he pulled Morse's hands off his coat and gently pushed him away. "You're confused right now, high on adrenaline. Bright is giving you the week off to recover, you should-"

"Fucking vampires," Morse said again, moving away. "You take and take-"

"Now you're angry at me because I _didn't_ bite you? I am not risking slaughter, if you forgotten that. If you want me to be your lord, I'll put in an inquiry with Bright and-"

"I didn't want a lord! Not you, not Bright, not anyone! I wanted to be free!"

"Police officers do not have the luxury to be free. If someone found out you were without a lord, if one of the gangs out there found out, you wouldn't be standing here, Morse. You would be held in some back room, chained to a wall, constantly fed on by vamps paying for the privilege. And since you were neither an officially free human or subject, the protection laws wouldn't apply to you. No human would look for you, no lord would avenge you. Is that what you want?"

Unhappily Morse sunk down into one of his kitchen chairs. He cupped the bite. "I didn't want this."

Thursday shook his head in disgust. He's seen those back rooms. Most of the victims were free humans, kidnapped while on holiday. These poor humans would have been bitten hundreds of times, only kept alive just enough to feed the next hungry vampire. Thursday didn't want to think of finding Morse in one of those rooms, pale and begging for death.

"What happened to your first lord?" Thursday asked to keep his thoughts on a different track.

"Do you remember what I told you? About the vampire who sired multiple humans?"

" _That was him_?"

"Due to poor investments, he lost his fortune, which meant he was to lose his humans too. He went... mad, and starting siring his subjects without their consent. He was caught, slaughtered, and one by one we were to be reassigned new lords. I don't know what happened, but my files were never finished."

"And you were never reassigned." Thursday snorted. "Then why didn't you declare yourself as free?"

"Why? Most universities don't take free humans. Ninety percent of the workload requires a lord. Being free was not an option."

"So why not go back to having a lord?"

"Why? So someone can tell me where to go, what to do, decide who I can marry, how many children I can have?"

"I would've given you anything," Thursday suddenly said. "If you wanted to be an officer, or a student, or a husband, you would've had that right. So, yes, why not me, Morse?"

"I... I don't know. I've been hiding for so long, I... it doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

"It does. Morse. Do you want to be my subject?"

"It doesn't-"

"Do you want to be _mine_?"

Morse pulled his hand away from his neck. His palm was pink and wet.

He nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

"My answer is no."

"No?" Thursday said. "Why?"

Bright lit a cigarette. He took his sweet time taking a drag, blowing out the smoke before saying, "Because you're too soft. I know you, Thursday. As soon as that boy gives you a look with those puppy-dog eyes, you'll melt. That boy needs a firmer hand, someone to treat him right."

"Treat him right?" Thursday stepped forward. "You bit him and left him. He's never experienced blood loss on that level before!"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about! Blood loss? I barely touched him. He's an adult, his body can handle it. You're treating as if ahe's glass, as if a single bite can slow him down. Thursday, I know you care for Morse. It's admirable. But I am not giving him up. I needed a new subject anyhow. I'll treat him right."

"You didn't ask for his consent."

"He was never going to give it. Remember, he already turned you down. I did what I had to do to keep him safe. Would you blame me for that?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A week later Morse was back at the precinct, wearing a new collar. It was a dark velvet blue, and it looked rather nice on him. The colour complimented his skin and his hair. The snazzy new suit he had on was probably worth more than an entire year's of pay. His shoes were new too, as well as the gold watch on his wrist. As Morse walked in, several passing officers wolf-whistled at him.

"Good for you, Morse! Getting Bright as a Lord? You hit gold, my friend."

"Shut up."

Morse did look nice. His old suits, though acceptable, were frayed and worn around the elbows and knees. Morse has never owned a gold watch, and he did complain how water easily soaked through his old shoes. This situation with Bright was not Morse's ideal pick, but in the long run, it was probably best for him. For the first time in Morse's life, he got luxuries beyond generic amenities.

Thursday came up to him. "Are you still angry at me, lad?"

After Thursday told him Bright had refused transfer, Morse angrily stalked off. Thursday didn't follow. It was best to let him come to terms on his own.

Morse stared down at his desk, shaking his head. "I was never angry at you. I was angry at myself for letting it go this far."

"You'll be fine, Morse. Bright has three other subjects. You won't get pulled often. And... well, I'm glad to see he can provide for you better than I can."

Morse sighed. He muttered, "It is a nice watch."

After that, things went on like always. Calls came in, papers were written, and Morse spent the majority of the morning answering phones and taking down anonymous tips. It wasn't until everyone was about to leave for lunch when a call came in about a body found behind a dentistry.

Thursday grabbed his coat. "Morse, Jakes, you're with me."

The two men got up from their desks, shrugging on their own coats and following Thursday out the door when suddenly Bright came out of his office.

"No, Morse, it's lunchtime and you have to eat." Bright said.

He said it loudly enough for everyone in the office to hear. There was an awkward pause as Morse gaped, clearly thrown. "Sir, I-"

Thursday stepped forward. "Sir, there's a body found on the streets. I need men with me-"

"Then take a uniform," Bright snapped at him. "Morse, you just came back. Go have lunch."

"I'm fine, _sir_. I can eat after."

Bright ignored him, stepped forward and shoved a twenty pound note into Morse's front pocket. He patted it. "You need sugar, caffeine, but no alcohol. Understand?"

Everyone was still watching wordlessly. Morse looked like he was going to explode.

Oh god, this needed to end. Thursday pointed to a random officer. "Jensen, you're with me then. Morse, I'll talk to you when we get back."

There was nothing Thursday could do. He could not overstep Bright's boundaries, not on his subjects. He left the precinct, doing his best not to look back, not to further along Morse's humiliation in being treated like a child.


End file.
